


How the Demon Stole Christmas

by Beckers522



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Art, Christmas, Digital Art, Fanart, Grinch References, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28279839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckers522/pseuds/Beckers522
Summary: Just a poem based off "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" that I made for the Antichrist-mas Zine.Art by KaykiStar
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: AntiChrist-mas Zine Collection





	How the Demon Stole Christmas

All the windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.

The children were dreaming sweet dreams without care.

Crowley stood on the roof for a moment or two.

Pondering and dreading what he had to do.

“This is pointless,” he grumbled, feeling weak at the knees.

“What use could Hell have for gifts such as these?”

Not one of those demons that lived underground 

Had ever shown interest in the holidays abound.

What made this house so different? What made it so grand?

That it needed a demon to soon lay a hand

On the gifts and the toys all wrapped up below

On the decor and the tree with candles that glow.

No matter what Crowley may think, wish or conspire

There wasn’t much to be done except change his attire

And follow the directions of those with more might

Climb down the chimney and steal everything in sight.

‘Easier said than done’ the demon thought with a frown

“How the Heaven am I supposed to get down

That chimney that reaches so high in the sky

Why, it would take a miracle for me to squeeze by.”

A miracle perhaps, or maybe something a bit different.

A tail, forked tongue, some scales - he got the hint.

With a blink of his eyes and a snort of his nose

Gone was the demon, from his head to his toes.

In his place sat a snake, scales bright and deep red

Peering down the dark funnel with a feeling of dread.

‘Best get it over with’ he thought with a frown

Before poking in his snout to begin heading down.

He slid down that old chimney, a rather tight pinch

But if Santa could do it, then so could this grinch. 

He got stuck only once, for a moment or two.

A quick flick of his tail, a miracle, and then he was through. 

Soot plumed in the air, turning everything black

For a moment, Crowley thought he just might head back

Who cared if this family had wealth to be spared?

He didn’t understand why anyone in Hell might have cared.

But for some odd reason, they’d decided to maim

Every last drop of Christmas that this household maintained

“Tear it all down,” they’d said. “Chuck it all out.”

Leave nothing at all to be smiled about.

‘Easy enough’, Crowely thought as he heaved a great huff

A few snaps of his fingers would surely be enough

To rid the whole house of its holiday cheer 

And find someplace else, far far far away from here.

“If I’m going to do this,” the demon muttered with snark

“I might as well try and dress for the part.”

A snap of his fingers, a blink of his eyes

And he was covered from head to to in disguise.

It wasn’t that much, the clothes that appeared

just a coat and a hat and a fluffy white beard

But it made the demon calmer, if only a bit

As he took a step forward and began to acquit. 

He removed all the toys, every box wrapped up tight.

Lifted one with each hand and chucked them clean out of sight.

The garland was next, strung around and about

Every single last bit of it had to go out.

Eventually, when everything in the house had been drained

Crowley turned with a flourish to the thing that remained.

One single tree, standing so big and so tall

A beacon of hope that just had to fall.

A swift stride of his feet and then he was there

Looking up at the plant with a dignified glare.

“You best not give me trouble,” he warned with an air

Of someone who couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I’ll chop off your roots and toss you down river

If you so much as  _ think _ of showing a quiver.”

Satisfied with his speech, the demon moved into position

Ready to put an end to this ridiculous mission.

Just like all the rest, there was one place to go

Up, up the chimney and out onto the snow

The quicker he completed the last of his tasks

The quicker the demon could go and relax.

Crowley grabbed the tree and he started to shove

Then he heard a small sound, like the coo of a dove

He turned around fast to find a small child

Looking up with a frown, eyes timid and mild

The demon had been caught by this quiet, young boy

Who had yet to say a word, choosing instead to be coy.

Slowly, so he wouldn’t wake another soul around

Crowley placed the trunk back onto the ground.

They looked at each other, silence filling the air

Brown eyes met gold in an unblinking stare.

Then the boy cocked his head, and glanced at the tree

His mouth opening wide in some kind of a plea.

“Santy Claus,” said the boy, as if he might cry.

“Why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?”

A demon he was, so smart and so slick

Crowley thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick.

“You see,” said the demon, his eyes open wide. 

“There’s a light on this tree that won’t light on one side. 

I’m taking it home to my workshop, my dear. 

I’ll fix it up there, then I’ll bring it back here.”

The words tasted bitter, and foul on his tongue,

but Crowley held fast, the lie already sung.

“That’s alright,” said the boy, eyes soft and sad. 

“It’s not the tree here at Christmas that would sure make me glad.”

‘What a strange thing to say’, the demon thought with a frown.

What could possibly cause a child’s spirits to be down

On what was supposed to be the most exciting of nights

Unless what he’d been lead to believe wasn’t right?

“What do you mean?” he found himself asking

Before he could stop the words from unmasking.

“I would have thought you’d have been in tears

To see all your holiday decor disappear.”

The boy blinked slowly and gave a soft shrug

hand lifting up to give his hair a tug

“Christmas isn’t that great,” the child was citing

“Not when mum and dad can’t seem to stop fighting.”

It was then Crowely realized the goings on here

How ornaments and lights all failed to spread cheer

When all this boy wanted was a family that smiled

And a home that would let him just be a child.

“You know what,” the demon replied, squatting down

So his eyes were leveled upon that boy’s frown.

“I have a feeling that this Christmas will most certainly be

Much better this year, even minus one tree.”

Then the boy smiled back and Crowley patted his head

Got him a drink and then sent him to bed.

And when the small boy was in bed with his cup,

Crowley returned to the chimney and stuffed the tree up. 

With a nod of his head and a twitch of his nose,

The demon stepped in and up the chimney he rose

Only to reach the rooftop and find

A familiar looking angel who’d made up his mind.

“I should have known,” Aziraphale said with a frown

“Nothing good could come with you on this side of town.”

Several meters away, he stood, hands clasped oh so tight

With a look on his face that said  _ oh dear, this isn’t right. _

“Calm down, Angel,” Crowley replied, a low tone to his voice.

“It wasn’t as if I had much of a choice.

Hell told me to take all this stuff and I did.

I’m sure you’d have done the same, were it Heaven’s sick bid.”

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment or two

Looking over the goods, his eyes a soft blue.

“What are you going to do with it now?”

The angel asked with a gentle, furrowed brow.

Amber eyes looked over lights, garland, and tree

Wondering just what  _ was _ he to do with all three?

“I didn’t really have that much of a plan.

Get in and get out with as much as I can.”

“Why does your side do this? What do they want?

Is it some kind of message, statement, or taunt?”

Aziraphale looked slowly back at the pile 

“What is the point of being so vile?”

Crowley shifted a leg, scattering snow down the roof

He was well past the point of being aloof

“I think they wanted to sow some discourse

What better way than in a mansion, of course?”

Aziraphale nodded, eyes still fixed down below

On the Christmas decor now covered in snow.

“I can’t put it back, Heaven wouldn’t allow it

But maybe, just maybe, there’s a place it might fit.”

And then without trumpet or triumph or flare

White wings opened up and he took to the air.

Crowley followed behind, his lips shut tight

Wondering what Aziraphale was up to this night.

They flew over house after house after house

All the while, demon keeping silent as a mouse

Not wanting to disrupt Aziraphale’s thought 

Assuming he had one, and this wasn’t for naught.

Eventually, the pair found themselves on the ground

Standing before a house that looked less than sound

The windows were cracked, roof sagging just so

As if one fierce wind would cause it to go.

“Why bring us here?” Crowley finally asked

Unable to keep any one question masked

Why bring them here to this sad, quiet place 

Where not a single decoration was there to displace?

Together, side by side, they stepped up to the window

Pressed noses to glass to see what it might show

A room filled with nothing but an old faded chair

Not a candy cane or pine needle seemed to be there.

“It’s been a rough year,” Aziraphale explained.

“The father lost his job - mother completely drained

Trying to provide for her family when they have very little.

Their future seems dark, their hope frail, and brittle.”

“Heaven, you may guess, has forbade me to aid.

Showing favorites, of course, is not the way we were made.”

The angel paused at the end of his thought

Wishing and yearning he could do as he ought.

“You know,” Crowley started, looking down at his feet.

“I saw an old dump just down the street.”

Aziraphale looked up, confusion clouding his eyes

Before it all clicked, blue orbs blown in surprise.

“Oh! Crowley, my dear,” he breathed with a beam

“What an absolutely, splendid idea, it would seem.

You could miracle everything here, and then us two,

Could walk it inside without breaking the rules.”

So that’s what they did, almost til morning

To ensure that this family was blessed without warning.

As far as he knew, Hell got what they’d asked

They’d never said what to do once he’d finished the task.

Crowley miracled over all the supplies

And angel and demon put on their disguise

Miracling themselves so they wouldn’t be caught.

Sneaking into the house and decorating each spot.

Morning came and the small home was mended

So they split up to see how the night might have ended

For each of the families whose lives had been touched

By an angel and a demon who cared far too much.

With a flap of his wings, Crowley took to the sky

In a matter of minutes, he was then flying by

Past the mansion in all of its upper class glory

He settled in to try and catch a glimpse of the story.

To his surprise and utter amazement

He was not greeted with rage and dissent

But a family alone, wrapped in an embrace

With tears and smiles on each tiny face.

It took him a moment to figure out why

These three would be happy to see things so very spry.

He’d expected some yelling or calling of names

Parents accusing and searching for someone to blame.

Instead they’d come together in the face of such spite

Thanking the heavens that each loved one here was alright

After what could have been a night ending much worse

It would seem Hell’s plan had done the reverse.

One hour later, angel and demon met up

On a bench in the park whilst feeding the ducks

And talked about how joy came from many a places

Knowing all had been worth it for the smiles on their faces.

For the family who had wealth and money to spare

And had realized this Christmas how much they could care

For the family who had barely a dime to their name

And been blessed with the gifts that meant more than just games.

Even though his plan had not exactly panned out

Crowley found that he no longer wished to scowl or pout

He’d gotten to spend Christmas with his very best friend

And together, two homes they’d managed to mend.

Proud of the fact they’d overcome their divisor

And Heaven and Hell would, once again, be none the wiser.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry I've been quiet recently. I'm struggling a bit with my mental health and needed to step away from writing Good Omens fics for a bit. This is one of three fics I wrote for the Antichrist-mas Zine, and now that it is officially Christmas Eve, I can now share them with you.
> 
> Each one includes an illustration that will be posted in the fic and linked on Instagram once the artist makes their work public. If you can't see it right away, check back in a few days and hopefully I'll have something for you by then.
> 
> If you liked what you read, feel free to leave kudos or a comment. I could really use the encouragement right about now.


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